ng else, as the fact is of
so great importance to the two women. After so short a space as ten
months he sold the estate which over four hundred years had been in
Aniela's family, and to the preservation of which Pani Celina had
devoted her own life. Then comes a Pan Kromitzki and sells it with a
light heart because he wants the money for his speculations. Suppose
he does make millions--will that compensate the women for the loss of
what they prized above money? What will they think of him now? My
aunt writes that she is sitting by Pani Celina's bedside, who after
receiving the news of the sale grew worse at once. I am quite certain
that Aniela, when putting her signature to the deed which empowered
her husband to dispose of the land, did not know what she was signing.
She is even now defending her husband. My aunt quotes from Aniela's
letter: "A great misfortune has happened, but it was not Charles's
fault." Defend him, defend him, O loyal wife; but you cannot prevent
my thinking that he has wounded you deeply, and that at the bottom of
your heart you despise him. Neither kisses nor soft words will efface
from your memory the one word "sold." And Pani Celina thought that
after the marriage he would devote his money towards clearing off the
debts and disincumbering the property! Dear ladies, I, a man who does
not boast of civic virtues, would not have done it, if for no other
reason than innate delicacy of feeling, affection for you, and fear to
wound you. But for speculations, ready money is wanted. I hope it is
not merely prejudice, but these millions I heard so much about appear
to me like a great point of interrogation. Maybe he will get them;
perhaps the capital realized from the sale will help him towards it;
but if he had possessed the wealth he used to boast of, would he have
dealt his wife and mother-in-law such a blow, and sold their ancestral
seat? My aunt writes that he left immediately after the sale for Baku,
and intends to go as far as Turkestan. Aniela being too young to live
by herself must needs come to Ploszow, as her mother cannot leave it
at present, because she is too ill to travel; and besides my aunt will
not let her go, and she is afraid of crossing her in any way. I know
Aniela too well to suspect her of any calculations. She is the very
essence of disinterestedness. But the mother, who would grasp all the
world for her only child, doubtless counts upon the chance of a legacy
for Aniela. And she